


Duo

by Mynuet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 04, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mynuet/pseuds/Mynuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wants to give Derek one good day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duo

"Come on," Stiles said, slamming his book closed. "We're getting out of here."

Derek looked up from his book with a frown. "If you need a break--"

"No," Stiles said firmly, then grimaced. "Okay, yes, but you're going with me even if I have to carry you."

He tried not to laugh, but the idea of Stiles carrying him anywhere was funny enough to break through even the knowledge that he was dying, and they didn't know why. Or how much time he had left.

"Up. Up, let's go. Did you know studies show that taking breaks increases recall, creativity, and cognitive functions?" Grabbing Derek's arm, Stiles tugged until Derek gave in and got to his feet. "That's right, big guy, listen to the Stiles. The Stiles knows best."

"The Stiles is really annoying." Now that Derek was on his feet, though, he could feel the ache in his muscles from sitting in a hunched position for too long, and a sandy itch behind his eyes from scanning through countless books trying to find any mention of a werewolf being turned into a human. He wondered, as he had a thousand times before, whether this weakness was something all humans felt, or if it was just him that felt like he was slowly crumbling.

If Stiles felt that way, he showed no signs of it. Just put his hands in the middle of Derek's back and started pushing him forward, out the door and to the passenger side of the Jeep. "Hop in, grumpypants. Don't forget your seatbelt."

"I never do." His mother had drilled it into all of them, from the time they were tiny. Or had it been his father? He remembered the feeling of safety, the scent of family, the wish to please, but even his memories were starting to fade. He hadn't told Stiles, hadn't told anyone, but it made him think the end wasn't too far off.

"All right, we're going to get some food and then do something fun. Anything you want," Stiles said. "Except, I should add, no permanent damage to my face, okay?"

Derek just stared at him, no sure where that proviso had come from, and Stiles shrugged. "You Hales all seem to like threatening to punch me."

"Guess you've just got one of those faces." Derek settled back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment as Stiles squawked. It was comfortable, just like the rattle of the engine and the sway of the car as they drove. Derek blinked, and then when he blinked again the car had stopped and they were parked outside the giant toy store that had been built just outside of town. 

His brain wasn't firing right, but apparently he looked more hostile than confused. Stiles swatted his shoulder and said, "Fuck you, dude, their café has the best cheese sticks. We're doing this."

"You're here for the food." Derek kept his tone completely blank, even as he got out of the car and followed Stiles to the door. The sign that read 'Ask any associate to try any of our toys!' probably explained why Stiles actually wanted to be there, and how a store like this was actually successful in this economy.

Once inside, Stiles steered him to a small grouping of tables and gave him approximately two seconds to look at the menu board above the cash register before rattling off a long list of fried foods. "Did I miss anything?"

"Any trace of nutritional value?" Not that there was much to be expected of a tiny snack bar in a toy store, but still. "Don't you have a family history of heart disease?"

Stiles glared at him before handing his card over to the bored cashier. "Today is about fun. There is no confrontation of our own mortality allowed. All of that? Forgotten. Because we're having fun."

The corner of Derek's mouth turned up, and he said, "Are we?"

"Shut up and grab us some napkins." Stiles shooed him away, but it was easy to tell that he was exaggerating his annoyance just because it was his way of playing. Derek went with it, grabbing napkins and picking out a table that didn't look sticky. 

He continued sitting as he watched Stiles struggle with two loaded trays, stumbling slightly and doing a sort of swaying, fumbling combination of dancing and falling before he finally arrived at the table, crashing the trays down before collapsing into his seat. "You're right, this is fun."

"Oh, fuck you," Stiles said, then blushed as he noticed a small kid in the vicinity. "Just eat your food. They've got laser tag, we're going to start with that."

Looking over the food on offer, Derek shrugged and picked up a slice of pizza. It wasn't half bad. "So you're trying to fatten me up before picking a fight?"

"Please. Like you could get fat." Stiles had half a fried mozzarella stick in his mouth as he snorted, and Derek was both horrified and fascinated as he pulled the other half away until the melting cheese in the middle was just a long, thin string. "We'd have to work on it for years, and then you'd burn it all off on the next full moon and go back to being Mister Abs, making the rest of us feel embarrassed and inferior just by existing."

There was a small twinge as he realized Stiles had forgotten he'd lost his connection to the moon, but it was easy enough to brush aside. "Should I apologize for working out?"

"Yes," Stiles said firmly. "A lot. Repeatedly."

Derek nodded solemnly and swiped one of the cheese sticks. "I'm sorry that you don't bother taking care of your body the way I do."

Choking on his drink, Stiles started to say something and then coughed before finally croaking out, "Dude. If you want to take care of my body, you should be the one paying for dinner."

The only response that seemed appropriate was to throw an onion ring at him. 

***

There were video games after they finished eating. The fighting one wasn't too complicated, but the driving one wasn't bad. The one where Derek tried to figure out how to play a plastic thing that resembled a guitar while Stiles banged on a drum pad and wailed into a microphone was both mortifying and hysterical. After being judged by both the game itself and the couple of kids that had stopped to watch, Stiles decided they'd had enough and sent Derek to get him a bottled water from the snack bar. 

Stiles was frowning down at his phone when Derek got back, but when he noticed Derek he shoved it into his pocket and cracked a smile. "Okay, big guy, next up is your choice: books or lasers?"

"Let's just walk around." Stiles seemed a little off, but he wouldn't have suggested staying in the store if any of the group was in trouble. Maybe he'd talk about it if Derek gave him a few minutes to stew.

They hit a sea of pink two aisles over, and Derek frowned as he saw something familiar. Picking up a box to stare at the gaudy costume, he said, "This doll... someone had this doll."

"It's a re-release," Stiles said, reading the back of the box. "Maybe Cora had it when she was little?"

"She was so disappointed when she found out no one really dressed like that in Chile," Derek said absently, still looking at the doll. The memory was right there - why couldn't he bring up Cora's face?

Putting the box back, Stiles said, "I had the one from Ireland, because it had hair like Lydia's. Inviting her to play didn't go over that well, though."

Derek looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "You played with Barbies?"

"Hey, my mom didn't believe in limiting children with gender norms," Stiles said, taking the box from Derek and starting to steer him forward. "Come on, before I decide to crack a few boxes open for old time's sake. I always did want to get one of the horses."

"They were great for practicing braiding," Derek said before he could think not to.

With a sound that most resembled outraged betrayal, Stiles said, "I knew it would be awesome! Come on, before I can dwell on my childhood disappointments."

Stiles was pushing him along, steering him down another aisle, and Derek snickered before starting to gradually lean his weight back onto Stiles, until they'd slowed almost to a stop and Stiles stumbled. "Come on, man, you weigh a ton!"

"I thought you said you were going to carry me." Derek was practically bent over backward now, laughing as Stiles swore and struggled to push him upright. 

"You're a jerk! A giant, colossal, super enormous jerk!" Stiles gave up, trying to step back only to somehow bring them both down. Derek dug his shoulders in backwards, grinding Stiles down into the tile floor. "All right, jeez, let me-- holy shit."

Derek tensed, leaping to his feet to scan for threats. Stiles scrambled up and picked up a luridly green crossbow, turning to fire it at Derek. "Nerf war. I declare a Nerf war."  
Looking over the vast array of foam weaponry available, Derek thought of at least six reasons why this was a bad idea. Reason seven was the sales associate eyeing them warily. 

However bad an idea it might be, Derek reached into his pocket for his wallet and took out a credit card, handing it to the associate. "I'll pay for anything we open or damage."

"You..." He smiled, and she looked between his face and the card in her hand before sighing. "Fine. Try not to make too big a mess."

A distinctly evil grin was spreading over Stiles's face, and he got off another shot with his toy crossbow. "Come on, handsome, you're it."

He started running as Derek picked up the foam dart and flicked it back at him, picking up a couple of boxes as he went around the corner. Derek tore open a box of ammunition and grabbed a plastic gun to go with it, using a display for cover as he loaded the gun and stuffed the spare darts in his pockets. 

The game evolved as they chased each other, eventually incorporating several kids who insisted on dividing into teams and laying out a set of rules. Foam darts were everywhere, and anyone who got tagged out had to take the empty boxes up to the register to get scanned. Derek went up to the register himself after being tagged out by a cherubic little girl who had actually climbed to the top of a stuffed toy tower in order to snipe people, taking the chance to let the cashier know that the kids were allowed to take their weapons home. He was pretty sure that they were having a great sales day, especially since the Nerf section was looking pretty bare the last time he'd gone back to resupply.

Tagging back in for the next round, he stalked through the store to peer in various nooks and crannies looking for Stiles. He missed being able to scent his prey, but he was still able to do a decent enough job hiding to mostly avoid the other players as he went, only exchanging the occasional round of fire. He finally cornered Stiles in a popup castle play tent, only spotting him when his shadow shifted against the yellow wall. Quietly lifting one of the tent's windows, he prepared to shoot but stopped when he saw that Stiles was on his phone again, looking deeply upset as he typed.

Nothing good happened when Stiles had that look on his face, and Derek lowered the gun with an inaudible sigh before crawling in through the tent door to sit quietly next to Stiles. He let the sounds of the store fade from his consciousness as Stiles dropped his phone before burying his face in his hands. The rush from playing around started to fade, enough for Derek to notice that his muscles were trembling with weakness. "Did you find out what's wrong with me?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, scrubbing a hand over his hair as he looked up. "I couldn't decide whether it was better to tell you or not."

"Tell me," Derek growled, curling his hands reflexively to hide the claws that were no longer there. "I have the right to know."

Stiles swept his eyes down and nodded. "You're right. I just thought... No, you're right."

After another long moment when all Derek could hear was the pounding of his own heart, Stiles said, "The real Derek Hale is buried in an ancient temple in Mexico. We went down to find him, but we never did."

"You..." Derek put up a hand to touch his own chest, to feel his own lungs working and heart beating. "I'm right here."

Nodding gravely, Stiles said, "It was in the last book I read, the spell that got used. You're a... a copy. Made out of magic to hold Derek's memories and powers, because you can't take the years away from a person, but you can from a copy."

Derek stared blankly ahead, wanting to cover his ears and stop hearing any of what Stiles was saying, stop the pressure that he felt building inside him. Stiles just continued, his voice soft and halting. "The spell wasn't strong enough - you shouldn't have gotten back to your real age, and it was never supposed to last."

"Why--" His voice cracked and he stopped to swallow hard before going on. "Why are you here? Why aren't you finding the real Derek?"

Scrubbing both hands over his face, Stiles said, "Because... Because you feel real. Because you needed to enjoy yourself a little and... and even if I couldn't come up with something better than just goofing off in a toy store, I wanted you to have some fun before... And you couldn't be alone, I wouldn't leave you alone."

Before the end, before he died, or was erased, or just disappeared. "How long do I have?"

"Not long," Stiles said, clasping his hands together so tight that the knuckles went white. 

Derek put a hand over his and tried to think of something, anything to say that would make Stiles stop looking completely destroyed. "I can't believe you made pizza and onion rings my last meal."

That startled a watery laugh out of Stiles. "It was delicious, don't front."

"Yeah." It felt like a monumental effort to just hold his head up, but he kept holding on to Stiles's hand. "I guess maybe the weakness isn't just from being human."

Carefully, Stiles eased him to lie down on the plastic floor of the tent, curled up so that his head rested on one of the thighs sprawled around him. "Not all of it." 

"How did we meet?" He couldn't remember and it bothered him. "Were we friends right away?"

"Yes and no," Stiles said, running his fingers through Derek's hair. "We met a couple of times when we were kids, but I don't think you remembered me. You talked to me once, though."

Derek reached up to take his free hand, needing the contact as he felt his body grow heavy and dull. "You..." He broke off at a sharp pain somewhere in his chest, but licked his lips and tried again. "You let me talk?"

"Very funny," Stiles said, his voice shaky. "You caught me sneaking out of some fundraiser or another. I think it might've been for mayor? My dad had to be there because he's the sheriff, and I think your parents were there just because they were super rich."

"I thought I was so sneaky," Stiles continued softly. "And then you jumped out of the shadows and I almost peed myself. Went right into a panic attack, which I think got you all panicked, too. It pissed me off so much when you put a hand over my mouth to shut me up that I bit you."

Derek listened to him talk, and the pain gradually disappeared until he just felt overwhelmingly tired. Stiles broke off mid-sentence but Derek couldn't keep his eyes open, letting them flutter closed as Stiles loomed over him, calling his name. He struggled to open his eyes, to smile and tell Stiles it would be all right, but all he managed was to look at Stiles again, outlined by the soft yellow glow of the fluorescent light shining through the fabric of the tent.

He blinked again and the light was gone, but Stiles was still calling his name. Fighting against the weight of his eyelids, Derek managed to open them to see Stiles still above him, except that Stiles was sweaty and dirty, a cobweb caught in his hair. Derek tried to move, but he was caught in something and then Stiles was ripping at more cobwebs, and then Scott was there and hauling Derek up, using his claws to rip through the ropes that were holding him in place.

Derek stumbled forward, confused and cold and not sure about anything, except that Stiles was still there. Scott hustled them along, warning them about a rumble that Derek had heard but hadn't paid attention to, and soon they were out and Derek was in the back of the Jeep as Stiles got it into gear and they drove off. The girls sitting in the back held him up, Lydia trying to clean him up with what felt like a baby wipe, but he couldn't focus enough to help, or even to follow the conversation that was going on. He fell asleep again as Lydia was saying something about muscle atrophy over the months he'd been entombed.

He woke up again, disoriented by the lack of motion. Scott was in the front seat snoring, and when he focused he could hear that the girls were in a small tent nearby, their heartrates slow with sleep. Stiles was farther away, and Derek was halfway out of the driver's side before he'd even thought about what he would say to him.

Moving was an unexpected pleasure, the rush of being in his own body again impossible to describe. He tilted his head back, taking in the sounds and smells of the desert at night, feeling so much more like himself than he could remember ever feeling before. Another deep breath and he followed the scent trail to where Stiles sat, still well within earshot of where the Jeep was parked but shielded from view by the large rock he was lying on. Derek climbed up to sit beside him, still not sure what he should say.

Stiles was the one to speak first. "I'm sorry. It shouldn't have taken so long to come get you."

"You came and got me," Derek said softly. "That's what matters."

Closing his eyes tightly, Stiles said, "If I'd been smarter--"

"You'd have picked a better last meal?" Derek reached out to grab Stiles by the shirtfront as he flailed and almost fell off the rock. 

"You... You..." Stiles didn't seem to be able to get past the one syllable, although he seemed to be trying to develop a new form of sign language through wild gesticulations.

Capturing one of his hands as it flew past his face, Derek pulled it down to lace their fingers together. "My mom was considering running for mayor. And you insisted on wrapping my hand up in toilet paper and using your tie to hold it in place after you bit me."

"Oh my God." Stiles looked at him in horror, although he didn't pull his hand away. "I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember everything," Derek said. "Everything."

Twisting his lips, Stiles said, "There's probably some things you'd rather forget."

"Probably," Derek said. "Except that it was... Losing my memories was..."

"Terrifying." They sat in silence, their hands still joined, until Stiles slumped down to rest his head against Derek's shoulder.

Using his free hand to smooth back the hair hanging over Stiles's forehead, Derek murmured, "You made it bearable. I needed you so much, and you were there."

"Always there," Stiles muttered against his shoulder. "Hurt so much. Don't die."

He wasn't sure if Stiles was awake enough to be aware of what he'd said, but he still felt the warmth of it down to his bones. "I'll always be there, too."

**Author's Note:**

> There's been some speculation about whether they really rescued Derek or if there were two of them, and this is where I went with that. Thanks to the people who read it on Tumblr despite it not being quite as fluffy as promised (I made Omni cry!), and to KleineElfe92 for the summary and the encouragement to post it here.


End file.
